


Just Like Chocolate

by fardareismai2



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-05
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 14:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1472890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fardareismai2/pseuds/fardareismai2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winner Slash/Backslash One Shot Contest. Jasper reminisces about his life with Edward, the texture of buttercream, and the capacity to love. AH. Additional outtakes will appear at random intervals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Twi fic, and what a way to pop my cherry. I'd like to thank the most fantastic beta a girl could ever have, Gallathea, for her fabulous editing, insight, and for catching the inconsistencies. She is the cheese to my macaroni. I also have to give my undying gratitude to Chicklette, zeewriter, and Zigster, for letting me torment you with the bits and pieces and varying versions of this story. Your support, comments, and unwavering willingness to hold my hand and tell me it will be alright made this possible. And Chicklette, thanks for inspiring me to try my hand at Twi fic. I hope you all like it.
> 
> This was originally published on fanfiction.net on November 5, 2009.

I turn my head to look at his face, and wince slightly, the pain from a night contorted in this position my due. _Beautiful_.

In sleep he is angelic. His lashes lie long and dark against his cheeks, and his full and lush lips part slightly as he breathes, the tiniest hint of a snore escaping. I close my eyes and revel in the smell of him, faint traces of vanilla and cinnamon and something more that was uniquely his. I inhale deeper, and I'm transported.

_Eight Years Earlier_

A tiny bell tinkled as I held the door open and waited for Rose to step through. I followed her in, and instantly was greeted by the mouthwatering smell of fresh baked deliciousness: chocolate, cinnamon and vanilla, competing with the unmistakable scent of freshly baking bread. I was pleasantly surprised by the surroundings, expecting a place that specialized in wedding cakes to be dripping with feminine details, flowers, and other frou-frou wedding details. I couldn't have been more mistaken. It was a warm and welcoming café, with cases filled with mouth-watering pastries, muffins, cookies, breads, and cakes. A tiny, black-haired girl behind the counter smiled as we approached.

"Good morning! What can I get you?"

"We have an appointment to look over wedding cakes," Rose replied.

"Oh, Ms. Hale?"

"Yes."

"Just a minute," the girl replied, and stepped through a doorway to the back of the shop. She returned a moment later. "He'll be right with you. Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"Actually darlin', I'd love a cup of coffee and one of those chocolate croissants, please," I replied, while Rose shook her head in the negative.

The girl showed us to a table, brought a photo album with pictures of wedding cakes they'd made, and then brought my coffee and croissant. I broke off a piece with my fingers and popped it in my mouth. It was delicious, and I groaned as I chewed, enjoying the buttery, flaky dough and the bittersweet smoothness of the chocolate.

I looked up to find the small girl smiling at my obvious delight. "I take it you like that?"

"I think that may have been a religious experience of the ecstatic variety."

When she looked at me, confused, I explained, "It was like a mouth-gasm."

"Jasper!" Rose admonished, as the dark-haired girl's eyes went wide.

I heard a chuckle behind me and felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Turning in my seat, I found myself staring at the most beautiful man I'd ever laid eyes on. His auburn hair was wild, and begged to have my hands running through it. His cheeks looked like they were chiseled from marble, and his mouth was full and almost pouty, but his eyes . . . his eyes transfixed me. They were a remarkable shade of hazel, more like topaz flecked with green, and they held my gaze as if they were searching my soul. I licked my lips, hoping there were no stray bits of crumbs, and watched as his eyes darkened. His eyes remained on mine as he said, "Thank you, Alice. Could you please go box the Franklin order?"

When he finally broke eye contact, he turned to Rose and extended his hand, "Ms. Hale? I'm Edward Cullen. It's a pleasure to meet you."

As he and Rose introduced themselves, I took the opportunity to ogle the rest of him. He was wearing a tank top and jeans, topped with an apron emblazoned with _Cullen's Creations_. His arms were well defined, and I noticed a tattoo peeking out from under his shirt, although I couldn't see enough to make out the design.

He turned to me, catching me staring at him. His eyes hardened, seemingly irritated with being checked out, and he extended his hand to me. "Mr. McCarty?"

I laughed. "No, I'm Jasper, Jasper Hale. Bridezilla's twin brother." Honestly, if we were the same sex, people would think Rose and I were identical twins. Both of us shared our father's wavy blond hair and our mother's blue eyes. We were both tall and slim, although I did inherit my father's broad shoulders, which Rose thankfully did not. Instead, she was willowy and slim, but curvy in the right places. My sister turned heads wherever she went. She was stunning.

He smiled then, a radiant smile that reached all the way to his eyes, and the hardness melted away. When we shook hands, a jolt of pure desire shot through me, and my stomach clenched in anticipation. The man was entirely too hot for his own good. We all sat down, and Rose and Edward began to discuss wedding cakes. I was, frankly, too entranced by him to pay any attention to what they were actually saying. I continued to pick at my croissant as well, but found my eyes constantly making their way back to him—to his face, his shoulders, and his crazy shock of hair.

Before I knew it, Edward and Rose were finishing up and discussing dates for her and Emmett to come and taste some samples in the flavors she had chosen. She excused herself to go call him and confirm his schedule, and suddenly I was alone at the table with Edward. I fished for another piece of croissant, uncharacteristically embarrassed at being left alone with him. I'd been out of the closet for years, and had never had trouble flirting with anyone before, but something about Edward spun me out completely.

I popped the last bite into my mouth, and heard him say, "If you suck the chocolate off your fingers one more time, I won't be held responsible for what I may do to you."

I looked up at him, surprised by his admission, and suddenly feeling much more confident. I stared him in the eyes and very deliberately licked and sucked my fingers clean of the remnants of the croissant, never breaking eye contact with him.

"Fuck," he whispered.

I smiled widely. "Maybe," I replied.

I think he whimpered. "We close at five today, but I'll be here finishing some work," he told me, leaving the ball in my court.

Rose returned to the table at that moment, precluding my reply. They agreed on a date, and before I knew it, Rose was hustling me out of the café, nattering on about making it to another appointment that day.

I finally pried myself away from her just after five, and rushed back to the café, arriving there at about half past. The door was locked, and the lights in front were off, but I could see a faint glow coming from the back. I hoped Edward was still there, and knocked on the door. Nothing. I waited another minute, then knocked once more.

I was getting nervous again. I didn't usually engage in random hook ups, and I realized that I had no idea what Edward's expectations were. I just knew that my attraction to him was stronger than anything I'd ever experienced. I knocked a third time, and was just about to walk away, when I saw him rush through the back doorway. He saw me and that smile lit up his face again. I realized then that whatever Edward's expectations were, I was willing to go along for the ride.

He walked toward the door, and I noticed how he moved with a grace and certainty that was unbearably sexy. He was a man who was completely at ease in his own skin, and that confidence made him even hotter. He unlocked the door and opened it.

"You came," he said while still smiling.

"I heard they make really good chocolate croissants here," I said smirking.

"Oh, well we're out of those, sorry," and he playfully began to shut the door on me.

My hand shot out to stop it. "Of course, I might be persuaded to try something else."

"By all means," he replied as he moved aside to let me in.

As I passed through I brushed against his arm and even that tiniest contact set my blood on fire. I wanted him like I'd never wanted anyone before. It emboldened me. He turned to relock the door, and I stood behind him, not touching but close enough to feel the energy coming off of him. I brought my nose to his neck and inhaled. I was almost overwhelmed by the scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and man. I whispered in his ear, "It smells fantastic in here."

I watched as his hand gripped the keys in the lock tight enough to turn his knuckles white. He turned the key, slowly spun around to face me, and said, "Wait until you taste it." It was his turn to smirk, as he walked past me and headed toward the back.

"Are you coming?" he asked over his shoulder since I hadn't moved yet. "Almost," I muttered to myself as I began to follow him, unable to tear my eyes off his perfect ass, encased in soft, low slung jeans. I felt myself start to get hard at the sight of it.

I followed him back into an industrial kitchen. Music was playing from an iPod in a dock. The walls were white, except for one large area by the door that was painted with chalkboard paint. In addition to a list of pending orders, there were drawings and comments by the employees—like graffiti. The appliances and countertops were all gleaming stainless steel, except for one marble topped table, for working with dough, and one wood topped work table, upon which a partially frosted cake perched on a pedestal. A large bowl sat to the right of the cake. The floor was industrial tile, but in front of each workstation was a rubber mat. I didn't know if it was for catching spills or cushioning the cook's feet.

I took a moment to wander around the kitchen, appreciating the orderly way in which it was set up, giving me a tiny glimpse into who Edward was. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Edward leaning against a counter, his hands resting on the edge, watching me as I surveyed his domain. I turned to face him. "Why baking?"

He smiled.

"What?" I asked.

"No one has ever asked me that before."

"Really? I'd think it would be one of the first things they'd want to know about you."

He snorted. "No. At the clubs they're only interested in the size of . . ." He paused, embarrassed. "Well, and the few guys I let Alice try to set me up with were only worried about whether I could actually support myself 'making cookies,'" he said, enclosing the last with air quotes. "But to answer your question," he continued, "my mom loves to bake, and as a kid I was always helping her in the kitchen. It just made sense to me. It has an order, a certain sense of symmetry—you can't really deviate from the recipe too much, you know? But at the same time, you can be wildly creative and indulgent."

"I'm sorry," I replied.

"For what?"

"Because they should have asked."

He shook his head at me, disbelieving. "Who are you, Jasper Hale?"

"Me? I'm just a slow cowboy from Houston," I teased, letting my drawl come out to play a little. We moved from Texas when Rose and I were fourteen, but I could still play the part when I felt like it.

He laughed. "Something tells me you are anything but slow, Jasper."

Just the way he said my name sent shivers down my spine. "I'm a writer," I said, hoping to skirt the topic.

"What do you write?"

"Uh, historical fiction."

"Really? Like what? I love historical fiction."

I was beginning to get embarrassed. "Oh, mostly Civil War era stuff. So, Edward, how does one go from helping his mom bake cookies to becoming one of Seattle's most sought after wedding cake purveyors?"

Edward walked toward me. "I went to pastry school, and you're changing the subject," he said. "Why?"

"I've just never been comfortable talking about myself, I suppose."

"Never? Or just since you've become J.W. Hale, best-selling author?"

I gaped at him.

"I just put two and two together," he said, laughing. "Jasper Hale, writer of historical fiction—I've read all your books. It wasn't a big leap after that. What does the "W" stand for, anyway?"

"W . . . Whitlock," I stuttered out. "That wasn't fair, Cullen."

Edward shrugged and walked over to the wood table, picked up a spatula looking thing, and began to deftly spread a chocolate mixture over the cake, rotating the pedestal as he worked over it, evenly coating the top. He looked at me. "Would you like to try?" he asked, indicating the cake.

"You want me to frost a cake? What if I screw it up?"

He laughed. "It's only the crumb coating, not the final layer, so you can't really mess it up. C'mon."

He placed me in front of the cake and handed me the spatula, then stood slightly behind me and to my right. With his right hand over mine, we gripped the spatula, dipped it into the bowl and he guided my hand to the cake.

"It's chocolate buttercream," he explained as we began to smooth it along the sides. He stepped closer, placed his left hand on my waist, and continued smoothing the mixture over the sides. His left hip brushed against my backside as he leaned over a bit more, and my breath caught in my throat. Then suddenly he moved away. "Now we have to put it in the refrigerator to harden a bit," he said as he deftly picked up the cake and placed it in one of the large, industrial coolers.

He walked back over and took the spatula from me, dripping some of the buttercream on his hand in the process. He set the implement down on the table.

"You got some on your hand," I said, grabbing it and bringing it to my mouth. I heard his breath hitch as I looked him in the eyes and slowly began to lick the chocolate decadence from his fingertips, twirling my tongue around each one, before slowly sliding them into my mouth, sucking them clean, and then releasing them with a pop. His eyes became dark, almost feral. He stepped closer, dipped his fingers back into the bowl and brought them to my mouth.

"I don't think you got a full appreciation for the texture of the buttercream," he said. My lips parted for him, but instead of placing his fingers in my mouth, he brushed the corner of it, smearing it over my lower lip and onto my chin. "Ooops," he said, "let me get that for you." He leaned forward and flicked out his tongue, swiping up the frosting from my chin all the way to the corner of my mouth. He looked at me for a moment, making sure I was okay with it, before he gently brushed his lips across mine and then suckled my bottom lip, cleaning the chocolate there as well, before deepening it into a real kiss.

His full lips felt exactly like I'd imagined, soft and strong at the same time, demanding and in control. I brought my hand to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to me, opening my mouth to him and letting his tongue explore it, as my fingers worked their way into his hair. I leaned against the work table as Edward leaned against me, his slim hips angling forward, pressing his hardened length into mine. I fisted his hair and groaned at the friction he caused. I broke away from his mouth, trying to catch my breath and muttering a whispered, "Fuck, Edward."

I pulled back a bit and looked at him. "I'm not usually this forward . . . I mean, this isn't like me," I panted.

"Me neither," he replied, "but there's something here, Jasper. Tell me you feel it too."

"Yes," I whispered. "I feel it too." And I did. There was a connection between us. Something I couldn't explain, even with my penchant for words. I was at a loss to describe it, but it was there—palpable, demanding, and inexorable.

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me to him as his mouth continued its assault on my senses, moving down my jaw to my neck, before he ran his tongue back up and around the shell of my ear. Fuck, I wanted him. I tugged at his apron and said, "Off." I felt him smile against my neck before he stepped back.

This time _he_ looked _me_ in the eyes as he slowly removed the apron. I reached forward and gripped the hem of his shirt, tugging upwards. He smiled and raised his arms, allowing me to lift the shirt up and off of him. His body was a vision. Defined, but not overly muscled, with a beautiful V cut dipping into the top of his low riding jeans. I pulled him in for another kiss, while my other hand found the bowl of buttercream. I broke away from his mouth and dragged fingers coated with frosting down his throat and across his collar bones, before leaning in and licking him clean. By the time I repeated my action, circling his nipples and running my fingers down to his happy trail, he was moaning aloud, and his hand found the back of my head, pressing my mouth harder to his nipples until I bit down, teasing him with my teeth. He threw his head back and cried out, "Oh fuck, Jasper!" as his hips thrust forward, seeking me out.

I dropped to my knees on the rubber mat in front of the work table, quickly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, releasing him from their confines and discovering that my boy was going commando. His cock sprang forward, large and beautiful. I looked up at him before wrapping a hand around it and stroking him, reveling in the feel of my hand slipping over the hot, soft skin wrapped around his hardness. My tongue snaked out, capturing the moisture gathered at his tip, and I couldn't help but moan at his taste before I slid my mouth over him and took him into me. I moved up and down, coating him with my tongue, while stroking him from the base up to my lips. I swooped down once more, and on the way back up, I pressed my tongue against the large vein on the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in response, his hands threading their way into my hair. I circled the tip with my tongue once more, and as I looked up at him, I slid down to where my hand was, then relaxed my throat and continued down to the base, my nose buried in his curls. My eyes closed at the feel of him slipping into my throat, and I felt him grip my hair tighter and still my head as I swallowed around him.

"Jasper, I'm not going to last if you keep doing that."

I hummed in response, but continued to bob up and down his cock, desperate to taste him. "Fuck, Jasper, I'm going to cum," he warned, but I grabbed his ass and pulled him deeper, sliding him past my gag reflex once more, until he cried out, and I felt him spill into my throat. I pulled back slightly so that I could collect some on my tongue, tasting him, and enjoying the feel of his still twitching cock as the last of his orgasm shuddered through him.

Finally, I released him from my mouth, and he dropped to his knees in front of me and pulled me in for a searing kiss, moaning as he tasted himself on me. His hands slid down to my lower back and under my shirt, and the feel of his hands against my skin was like fire burning me in the most spectacular and erotic way. He brought his hands back to the front of my shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing it off my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. "Beautiful," he whispered as he leaned forward to kiss my chest. He stood up and brought me with him, before reaching down to my pants and unbuckling my belt. He pulled it through the loops with a quick tug, and then unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. His fingers teased me along the waistline, before grasping the edges of the fabric and yanking both my pants and underwear down at once. He slid down my body, trailing kisses the entire way, but avoiding where I wanted him most. He helped me remove my shoes and socks before he brought my pants down to my ankles, and I kicked them off the rest of the way. He kissed and licked his way back up my thighs, nipping along my hip bones, until he slid the rest of the way up, and we were gloriously pressed together, chest to chest, skin to skin. His cock was hard and proud once more, and as we came together, it rubbed against mine and I whimpered with need. He chuckled lightly into my neck.

"Come here, beautiful," he said, and pushed me back and up onto the table, pressing against my chest until I lay down flat. He climbed up after me and straddled my waist. "Now it's my turn to play," he said. He grabbed a nearby pastry bag, filled it with the buttercream still sitting in the bowl, and began to pipe it over my chest. I couldn't see what the designs were, but I could feel the swirling, light touches of the frosting, as intimate as any lover's caress. I watched his face as he worked, and he was so stunning, he looked almost ethereal. Once or twice, however, he stuck his tongue between his lips as he concentrated on something in particular, making him look younger, more innocent, than he was. He moved down my body, circling my belly button, before decorating my hips, and then starting to work on my straining cock. If I thought the feel of the buttercream against my chest was intimate, the sensation of it being piped along my dick was indescribable. My hips bucked of their own volition, my body desperately seeking some sort of relief from the delicious torture Edward was inflicting on me.

He sat back on his heels between my legs and murmured, "Fucking hot." He jumped down and said, "Hold on!" He returned a moment later with a Polaroid camera in his hand. "Please? I won't take one of your face, but I want you to see this." I nodded silently, and he snapped two pictures before setting the camera and developing pictures down, and then climbing back up on the table. "You are so fucking gorgeous, Jasper. But now? Now, I'm going to eat you." And he proceeded to do just that.

I have no idea how long I spent writhing and bucking under his lips and tongue as he licked away every trace of buttercream from my body, until only my cock remained covered with it. He looked up at me as he lowered his mouth over the tip and just sucked there, no further. I cried out, frantic with need, my dick growing impossibly harder and aching. Then he licked and sucked his way up and down my cock, but never enough to allow me to cum, until finally he crawled back up my body, kissed me hard and said, "I want to see you. I want to feel you cum when I'm inside of you."

"Yes, please," I begged, out of my mind with need.

He climbed down off the table and walked away for a moment. When he returned, I saw the foil packet in his hand and watched as he tore it open and rolled the condom on. He reached down to the shelf below the table and grabbed a bottle of vegetable oil. He raised an eyebrow at me, daring me to say something, but what did I care what he used? I just wanted him inside me. He poured some on his fingers and coated himself with it, before climbing back on the table. He leaned forward and kissed me again, and I felt his hand slide down between my legs, his well oiled fingers caressing my perineum, before he slid one into me and began to fuck me gently with it. After a minute, he added another, making sure I was well lubricated and stretching me, all the while kissing me and whispering, "I can't wait until I'm inside you, gorgeous."

He sat back between my legs and lifted me by the hips. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him towards me. He guided himself to my entrance, and looking at me once more to make sure I was okay, he slowly pushed in until just the tip slipped into me.

"Is this okay?" he asked, and I could hear the strain in his voice as he fought his desire to drive into me.

"Oh fuck yes," I growled, and used my heels to pull him closer, push him further into me. He grabbed my hips, stilling my movements, forcing us to go slow and driving me completely insane with want and need. In and out, slowly, slowly, each time pushing a little further until finally, he was sheathed all the way inside of me. I'd never felt more complete.

"Edward! Oh, God! Please," I begged, but I didn't even know what I was begging for anymore.

And then he began to move. His thrusts were powerful, deep, and hit my sweet spot every time. "Jesus, Jasper, you're so fucking tight. Fuck," he muttered as he lifted my hips and angled deeper. The feel of him so deep inside of me, each stroke caressing me perfectly from the inside, had me on the verge of cumming before he even touched me. He reached down, wrapped his fingers around my throbbing cock, and began to stroke me: it was firm, deliberate, perfect. "Cum for me, Jasper. Cum for me, baby."

That was all it took. Three strokes and the sound of his voice demanding my orgasm, and I was gone. I screamed—a guttural, primal sound of pure pleasure—as I came all over my stomach and chest. "Oh fuck, Edward," I groaned as I convulsed and contracted around him. He wrapped an arm around my waist to anchor us together and leaned forward, placing his other hand by my head to support his weight as he thrust several more times before finally stilling, his hips jerking slightly as he cried out and spilled inside me—one word: "Jasper!"

When the last tremors of his orgasm finally stilled, he leaned down over me and kissed me softly, reverently. "Thank you," he whispered. When he pulled out, I felt bereft, empty. He quickly disposed of the condom and returned to me with a wet towel, gently cleaning me before wiping himself down.

I slid off the table and reached for my clothes, not wanting to leave him but unsure of what to do next. Edward grabbed me from behind, his arms wrapping around my waist, pressing his cheek into my shoulder blades. "Don't go," he said, and I smiled.

I turned in his arms and quipped, "I'd love to stay, sweetheart, but I don't think an entire night on that work table is going to be comfortable."

He laughed that warm laugh that I was beginning to love and said, "My loft is upstairs, above the café."

"In that case," I replied as I buttoned my pants and held out my hand to him, "I'd be honored."

_Present Day_

I slip out of the bed, careful not to wake my sleeping angel, and pad to the kitchen. I start the coffee and then cut the bread to make French toast. The smell of the day old brioche envelops me, a teasing reminder that the only thing Edward has managed to teach me about baking is how to make bread. I'm a complete failure when it comes to cakes and pastries, although the time spent trying is well worth it.

_Six years earlier_

"No, the butter has to be cold," he admonished before replacing it with a fresh batch from the fridge.

"Remind me why I'm doing this?" I whined.

"Your sister's baby shower," he retorted.

"But why isn't Alice helping you? I'm terrible at this; you know that!"

"I told you already. James is out sick, and I need Alice to mind the shop. Now stop whining and get your pretty ass over here."

"Did you just _order_ my pretty ass over there?"

"I did," he smirked at me.

I stalked over to him, grabbed a handful of flour, and threw it at him. He stood there, stunned for a moment, before grabbing the carton of eggs. "Jasper," he said threateningly, "run." I did, but he was faster, and within minutes we were wrestling on the ground, a sticky mess of flour and eggs.

He was straddled over my waist, flour all over him, his wild hair even wilder with the remnants of an egg in it. He looked down at me. "This makes me want to whip up a batch of buttercream," he said deviously.

My already hard cock throbbed at the memory, and I moaned before flipping him over and lying on him, grinding against him, showing him what he did to me—what he always did to me.

"Fuck, Jasper," he cried out.

"Definitely," I replied cockily, and smiled down at him. "Come, darlin', I want to clean you up," I said as I led him to the bathroom.

We washed each other quietly, tenderly—touching, stroking, enticing, until we were both practically humming with anticipation. When we were done drying off, I led him to our bedroom and pushed him down on the bed. I hovered over him, kissing him, tasting him, touching him, until he was twitching with need.

"Turn over," I told him, and I reached into the bedside table for the vanilla scented massage oil. Vanilla will forever be a scent I associate with Edward, and for years, just a whiff of it was enough to make me hard.

I straddled him, poured some oil on my hands, and then began to work on his shoulders, slowly moving my hands down his back, taking my time and enjoying the feel of his skin and muscles under my fingers. His moans were driving me wild. I slid down to straddle the backs of his legs as I kneaded the muscles of his amazing ass. I grabbed the oil and drizzled a generous amount along the crack, then moved my way up to massage his back more as I allowed my almost painfully erect cock to slide back and forth over the crack of his ass.

"Jasper, please," he begged, bucking his hips up toward me.

"Please what, Edward?" I teased as I thrust a little harder against him.

"Make love to me, Jas. I need you."

At the sound of those words, I slipped my well oiled dick between his cheeks and ever so slowly slid into him. Our movements were gentle and unhurried. I lay over him, his warm back pressed against my chest, and slid my arms under him, hooking my hands over his shoulders, pulling him closer and sending me deeper into him. We groaned together at the sensation. For the next while—minutes? Hours? I have no idea—I made love to him like that: softly, exquisitely, deeply. Whispered words flowed from us and surrounded us. "Baby," and "good," "so tight," and "oh, God," peppered with "love you so much," "need you," "no one else, only you," and "mine." We came together in a crescendo of emotion and sensation that left us weak and fulfilled. Still inside of him, I pulled on his shoulder until we were curled up together on our sides, perfectly joined and perfectly sated.

Edward turned his head and kissed me. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Marry me," he whispered.

I felt myself harden inside him at the onslaught of emotion and I kissed him, pouring all my love into it. "Yes," I answered, before making love to him once more.

_Present Day_

I finish placing the last pieces of French toast on the griddle and Rose walks in, heavy with the baby inside her.

"Hungry?"

"All the time," she complains. "I'm as big as a house."

"No you're not. You look beautiful."

And she does. She's as beautiful as she was four years ago. I hug my sister close, and rest my hand on her stomach before bending down and saying, "I'll see you soon, little one."

_Four Years Earlier_

"Are you serious?" he asked me.

"Absolutely."

"Rose?" he turned to my sister, his face still registering shock.

"I'm sure, Edward. Nothing would make me happier. Well, except maybe another one of my own someday," she said as she looked at the sleeping toddler on the couch next to her.

Rose agreed to be both an egg donor and surrogate mother for us. We reasoned that as my twin, she had at least some of my genes, and with Edward as the father, the child would be ours in a more meaningful way. Even Emmett supported the idea completely, but then, he supported anything that made Rose happy.

"Thank you, Rose," Edward said as he pulled her into a crushing hug. "You have no idea how happy you've made me, made us," he said as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

Two months later we found out Rose was pregnant.

"We're going to be daddies!" Edward shouted lifting me up and spinning me around the shop wildly before kissing me deeply. I blushed as the smattering of customers began clapping and calling out their congratulations. "I love you so much, Jasper."

"Show me," I whispered against his neck.

And he did.

Edward was always beautiful, and he was always a spectacular lover, whether he was being gentle or fucking me against a wall. But Edward blissfully happy? He was a sight to behold and a force to reckon with. He made love to me with his entire being. Over and over again, he showed me how much he loved me. I felt utterly consumed by him. For the first time, I truly understood the concept of a soul-mate, of someone who was simply the other of half of an indivisible "us." I don't think we had ever been, or ever were after, as complete as we were that night.

The months sped by as we obsessed over all the details of the impending birth of our son. Edward insisted we find out the sex of the baby so we could decorate his bedroom accordingly—the bedroom in the new house we purchased because there was no room for a baby in the loft. Also, Edward wanted me to have an office for my writing because, even though he didn't say so, I think he was a little sick of my papers always being spread across the dining table.

Then there were all the legal implications involved. Even though Edward and I were married in Massachusetts, it was not recognized by the State of Washington. Even if it had been, legal issues regarding surrogacy and adoption of children by gay and lesbian couples had not been resolved in the state. It took months of legal wrangling before all the contracts were in place, and I would still have to adopt our son after he was born. It always amazed me that people would see fit to legislate and control the manner in which people love each other, but give free rein to those who would seek to hate everyone.

But all of the red tape, legal hurdles, and hormonal tirades by Rosalie became worth it the day we first held Masen in our arms. He looked just like Edward, which pissed Rose off to no end. He had auburn hair, and after a few months, the odd grey-blue eye color so many babies are born with was replaced with Edward's unusual hazel.

As a gay man, I'd grown up feeling like marriage and children were something of a fantasy; that I could never have that slice of life that was taken for granted by so many straight couples. I always assumed that Rosalie, with her love of children and desire for a veritable brood, would be the only one to provide my parents with grandchildren. Yet there I was, married to the love of my life and holding my son . . . my son. I was overwhelmed by my emotions and had to hand Masen over to Edward as I broke down in tears.

Masen became the center of our world. Edward's parents lived close by, as did Rose and Emmett, so Masen was always surrounded by a loving family who doted on him. Plus, it meant Edward and I were lucky enough to have willing baby sitters so we could get some private time together. I finally understood all the conversations I'd overheard in the café of women telling their friends how happy they were they were having a "date night" with their husbands.

And while Masen may have made it impossible for me to throw Edward across the dining table during our Sunday brunch so I could drizzle maple syrup on him instead of the French toast, he certainly didn't dampen our passion for each other, or our creativity in finding ways to make love away from the prying eyes of a toddler, including one "date night" that recreated our first night together in the kitchen of _Cullen's Creations_. The buttercream was even better than I remembered.

Our first Christmas with Masen was a ridiculously extravagant one, with everyone outdoing themselves to spoil Masen rotten, only to find him gleefully playing in an empty box and shredding wrapping paper. But before we joined our families that day, Edward and I had exchanged gifts at home. Edward opened his box and stared at the pile of documents inside, confusion clearly etched on his face, until he read the first paragraph. I had convinced my agent and my publisher to help me make Edward's dream of producing a cookbook a reality. The contract in his hands only needed his signature. Tears gathered in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you, love." He kissed me tenderly, before wiping his eyes and reaching for a somewhat large, and heavy, package and handing it to me.

I unwrapped the gift and was stunned. Inside were three large, framed photographs. Each picture was a section from one of the Polaroids from our first night together, blown up to an eight by ten image: my hip, my chest, my shoulder, each painted by Edward in his chosen medium. By concentrating on just a section at a time, he'd elevated the pictures to artwork.

"Where did you find them?" I asked.

"When we redid my office at the café last year, I found them in a drawer in my desk. Do you like it?" he asked.

"Like it? I love it! Edward, it's beautiful. I want them displayed here, for everyone to see." Edward grinned at me.

Masen took the opportunity to yawn loudly, so we decided to put him down for an early nap before we had to head over to Edward's parent's house, and then we decided to celebrate Christmas in our own way. I took Edward by the hand and led him to our bedroom.

Slowly, we undressed each other, taking the time to touch and kiss everywhere. I knelt down before Edward and took him in my mouth, loving the feel of him and the sense of power I got from bringing him such pleasure, from knowing that I was the only one who could do this for him, or ever would again. I hollowed out my cheeks, sucking hard as I slid up and down his length, removing it only once to thoroughly wet my fingers before gently inserting them into him and fucking him with my hand while he fucked my mouth until he came, his taste as delicious then as it had been that first night. I laid him down on the bed, and after using the lube we kept by the bed, I spread his legs and slowly pressed into him. I loved watching his face as we made love and seeing him let everything go, seeing him lose control and live in the moment completely.

We made love with abandon, losing ourselves in each other, until we were a tangle of limbs indistinguishable from one another. Whispered endearments and sensual caresses, mixed with tongues, lips, and hands, and strangled cries of pleasure joined sweat and cum, until the heady blend made me delirious with joy and satisfaction.

"I think we should make this a new Christmas tradition," Edward sighed afterward, as his fingers aimlessly circled around my stomach.

"Definitely," I agreed. "What time do we have to be at your parents' house?"

"Not until five."

"Good, we can nap," I mumbled as I closed my eyes.

He rolled over on his side and said, "Jas?"

"Hmmm," I hummed at him, my eyes still closed.

"My turn."

Before I could even respond, Edward flipped me over and I felt the cool stream of oil drizzle down the crack of my ass, then I felt him press into me, taking me as I loved to take him. He loved me slowly and reverently, reaching down and stroking me until I was on the verge once more, and then begging me to come with him, before he did so inside of me, taking me with him over the precipice once again.

_Present Day_

"Is Masen still sleeping?" Rose asks.

"Yeah. Christmas always wears him out; between the excitement, the presents, and all the sugar, he was up until way past bed time."

"And Edward?"

"Sleeping."

"What about Angela?"

"Same thing. Emmett just checked, but she's still out cold."

"It's so quiet without them running around," I muse.

She snorts. "It won't be for long," she replies, pointing at her stomach.

"True," I laugh into my coffee cup.

"Are Carlisle and Esme coming over?"

"Yeah, they're on the way, and Carlisle said something about Boxing Day. You know his thing with British traditions."

She laughs with me, because although we love them dearly, Edward's parents are definitely unique.

She drains her orange juice and stands up. "I'm going to take a shower."

After she leaves, I pick up our dishes and put them in the sink. Then I set the rest of the food into the warming drawer for the others.

As I rinse Rose's and my dishes and put them in the dishwasher, I think of the baby in her belly.

_Six months earlier_

Rose and I had taken the kids to visit our parents. My father had been ill, and they'd been unable to make it out for Father's Day, so we decided to surprise them with a visit. Neither Emmett nor Edward could get away, but we went anyway, enjoying some brother-sister bonding time in between chasing after Masen, Angela, and Jake, their youngest.

Rose had just gotten through the first trimester of her pregnancy, carrying a child for Edward and me again. When we raised the possibility of finding another surrogate so she wouldn't have to do it, she flipped out on us. Rose loved being pregnant, which frankly shocked the hell out of me, since she put such stock in how she looked, but there it was.

The trip was nice, but after a week without our respective spouses, both of us were getting snippy. I was so happy to get home, all I wanted to do was fall into bed with Edward and curl up with him for days. So I was rather surprised when upon my arrival, he chose to inform me that the following week we were going away to a resort, just the two of us. He'd already spoken to his parents, and they were going to look after Masen while we were gone.

"But Edward, I just got home," I whined, not really looking forward to packing and traveling again.

"Please, Jas? I need this. I need you. We need this." His voice was desperate, and as usual, I couldn't say no to him.

That night, after he'd read Masen about fifteen stories to make up for the week apart, he made love to me as if he needed me just to breathe.

The following week, we headed out for our long weekend. The resort was beautiful, and we planned on making full use of all the amenities. Our first night there, Edward made love to me in the pool, under the waterfall. In fact, we wound up fucking all over the resort that weekend. Edward was insatiable, both giving and receiving with equal fervor, but overall simply desperate to touch and be touched by me. Our last night there, we took a blanket out to a nearby meadow and made love under the stars.

We drove home the next day in blissed out silence. I was deliciously sore in all the right places, and as I leaned against the window with my eyes closed, I felt a smile play across my lips as I recalled the wantonness of our weekend. If security ever reviewed their surveillance tapes, they were going to have a hell of a show.

"Baby." Edward's voice broke my reverie.

"Hmmm."

"We need to talk. Before we get home." Edward's voice sounded ominous.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He took a deep breath, as though steeling himself. "Something happened while you were away."

My eyes closed as, unbidden, images of Edward and a faceless, nameless man tormented me. "Who was it?" I asked.

"What?" He looked at me confused, before understanding dawned on his face. "Oh God, Jas. No! It's not that. God, how can you think that?"

"How can I think that? I don't know. Maybe it's because you're scaring the shit out of me. Maybe it's because I was gone for a week, and as soon as I get back, you're whisking me away for a romantic weekend and trying to fuck us into oblivion!"

He pulled the car over to the shoulder and slammed on the brakes. "I'm sorry, Jas. I didn't think how it would sound, but could you really think that of me?"

I sobbed. "No. I don't know. All I know is that you're scaring me right now, Edward. What is it?"

_Present Day_

Emmett walks into the kitchen, and I open the warming drawer to fix him a plate. When he's halfway through, Rose comes in, her face pale. "I think it's time."

Emmett jumps out of his seat and wraps his arm around her shoulder, his other hand caressing her belly as he helps her out of the kitchen.

This is it.

I slowly follow them out and into the living room, where they lean over the bed that was specially set up in there. They straighten up when I enter, and I look at the face of the love of my life, pale and drawn, as he lies against the white sheets.

He hadn't had an affair. He hadn't felt well, so he went to the doctor. The cancer was already stage four by the time they found it. Inoperable, and the prognosis was so poor, they didn't even recommend chemotherapy. They gave him three to six months, and told him to set his affairs in order.

Emmett and Rose each place a kiss on his forehead and leave the room.

Edward's breathing is ragged. I sit next to him on the bed. He opens his eyes and looks at me. Then he smiles my smile, and the ravages of his illness disappear. For a moment, he's just Edward, my Edward. My soulmate. My partner. My husband. The father of my children.

"I love you, Jas."

"I love you too, baby."

"Tell Masen I love him."

"He knows, but I'll tell him every day."

"And tell Bella about me."

Isabella. The name of our unborn daughter. Our little girl who is never going to know the wonderful man who gave her life.

"Of course I will," I say as I lean forward to place my forehead against his. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"Jas," he whispers, and then nothing more.

I watch as his final breath flees his body, and my soul longs to take flight with his, unable to bear the pain of being torn in half. I lie next to him for a while, crying quietly, until the mantle of responsibility descends on me once again.

I stand, kiss him one last time, and cover him with the sheet.

I exit the room, and I'm immediately folded into the warm embrace of my sister and brother-in-law. Edward's parents arrive just then, and Esme and I collapse in a weeping huddle on the floor, our pain without measure. Carlisle finally helps us up, and all of us stand together for a few minutes, mourning our loss, before I make my way upstairs.

I stand in the doorway of Masen's room watching him sleep, as I did just a few hours before when I woke up. I'd fallen asleep reading to him last night. My angel. A tiny, carbon copy of Edward. He opens his sleepy eyes. Eyes so like Edward's that they cut right through my heart. He looks at me and whispers, "Daddy's gone, isn't he?"

I make my way over to him, sit on the bed and pull him into my lap. "Yes, baby. Daddy is in heaven now."

"It feels like chocolate."

When Edward began to be visibly ill, he sat down with Masen and explained everything to him. Masen had been full of questions, and not surprisingly, several were about why God was taking his Daddy away and about how unfair life was.

Edward explained it in the terms they both understood: baking. "It's like the chocolate croissants you and Dad like to eat. The outside is warm, soft, and a little flaky. That's everyday life, and it's really good. But inside? Inside is the chocolate, and that's the best part. Only it's bittersweet. With the sweet always comes a little bitter, but that makes the sweet part so much better."

I hold my son tight to me and kiss the top of his head as I whisper, "Yes, baby, it feels just like chocolate."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've been missing these two boys, and since the story doesn't really lend itself to being continued, I figured I could play around with some outtakes. This particular one takes place early in their relationship. It's all fluffy bunnies, I promise. No tissues needed. There are lemons. Explicit lemons, so if boy on boy lovin' isn't your thing, bail now.
> 
> This particular scene came to me as I sort of "listened" in on a Twitter conversation between VanPireNz and (if I recall correctly) AngstGoddess003, wherein they were saying that going for sushi on a date was bad because eating sushi wasn't sexy. I begged to differ and promised to show VP what I meant. I hope I did it justice.
> 
> I need to thank Chicklette for doing the beta work here. And guess what? You can teach an old dog new tricks, 'cause she didn't even have that many adverbs to slay. I also want to thank the WC peeps for their cheer leading and support.
> 
> Also much love to my SVM darlings for supporting me outside the fandom. I love you guys.
> 
> Finally, thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and voted for this story. You amazed and humbled me. Thank you so much.

Rose's wedding was finally over, and Edward and I sat at the bottom of the stairs watching as the limo carrying her and Emmett off to the airport slowly faded in the distance. Edward's tie was hanging loose around his neck, and the top two buttons of his shirt were open, giving me a peek at the soft, delicious skin underneath.

I leaned against his shoulder, exhausted from the day's events. Edward and I had been there all day. I needed to be there for the pictures, and Edward was not only my date, but he also needed to oversee the finishing touches on the wedding cake and the amazing pastry table that was his gift to Rose and Emmett. We both wound up running interference the entire day, putting out fires and directing people to where they were supposed to go.

"Thank you for inviting me, Jasper," Edward whispered, kissing my forehead.

I looked up at him. "I couldn't imagine being here without you," I replied. Momma had always said that when you find "The One" you just know. Well, she was right. Edward and I had been inseparable since that first night together, alternately switching off between my condo and his loft, depending on our schedules.

"Can we go home now?" he asked his voice just this side of whining.

I chuckled and said, "Oh God, I hope so. Let's go see if Momma and my dad need anything else."

We made our way to my parents who were saying goodbye to several guests. We asked them if there was anything else we could help them with, but they waved us off, telling us we'd done enough and to go home. While my dad shook Edward's hand, Momma hugged me and whispered, "You hold on tight to that one, Jasper. He's a keeper."

"I know, Momma. I know," I whispered back, squeezing her a little tighter.

Finally we were on our way back to my place. Edward had taken Sunday off, leaving Cullen's Creations in Alice's capable hands, and we had the entire day to spend together. If I had my way, we weren't going to leave the bed.

Of course, things don't always go according to plan, and instead of getting to sleep in and making love to Edward, I was roused from sleep by my very frantic editor, Kate. The publisher wanted some last minute changes and I wound up spending the better part of the day in front of my computer. Irritated didn't even begin to cover my mood.

On the other hand, Kate insisted on taking Edward and I out for dinner to make up for ruining our day. By six o'clock I finally finished the changes the publisher wanted, and I had just enough time for a quick shower, pouting when an already showered and very naked Edward refused to join me and pointed at his watch. "We'll never make it on time if we both go in there," he said.

I grumbled something about him being too perfectly on time, to which he said, "I heard that!" while snapping his towel at my retreating ass.

I showered quickly, not even having the time to rub one out to thoughts of Edward naked in my room. By the time we left for dinner I was wound up, frustrated, and grumpy. Edward tried to soothe me on the way there, stroking my hand, whispering his love in my ear, resting his fingers on my thigh, but each touch only served to inflame my libido and increase my frustration, until I finally grabbed him by the back of the neck and kissed him, hard. Then I whispered against his lips, "If you don't stop, I'm going to take you here, in this cab, while the driver watches," and I knew the driver would, because he hadn't stopped staring at us in the rearview mirror since we got in the car.

Edward moaned lightly and said, "If we weren't pulling up to the restaurant right now, I'd beg you to."

Fuck. Me.

For a minute I considered telling the driver to just keep going, but then I saw Kate standing on the sidewalk waiting for us. I sighed and opened the door, pulling Edward along with me. Kate's eyes lit up when she saw me. She'd been dying to meet Edward, but we just hadn't had the time.

"Jasper," she said with a hug and a smile. Then she turned to Edward. "You must be Edward," she said to him, and pulled him into a hug as well. Edward looked at me over her shoulder, surprised at her lack of personal boundaries, but that was just Kate. She was warm and sweet, and a great person. Unfortunately, many men took advantage of that sweetness, and she'd been quite unlucky in love. I thought she was living a little vicariously through me and Edward.

Edward finally extricated himself from Kate's arms, and wrapped his hand around mine. I loved that he was so comfortable being open and public. Other men I'd dated, while ostensibly out of the closet, had been reserved about public displays of affection. Edward had no such qualms and it was one of the things I loved about him.

The restaurant was Japanese, and we were led to a bank of rooms all set up in traditional Japanese style, with low tables and tatami mats on the floor. As we followed her, Kate said, "I hope you don't mind, but I brought a date."

"Really?" I asked my curiosity piqued. Although I'd heard about her terrible track record, I'd never met any of the men she dated before. "Who is it? And how long has this been going on?"

Kate blushed. "His name is Garrett, and we've been seeing each other for a few months now."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why am I just hearing about him now?"

"I just . . . I just didn't want to jinx it, you know? He's really great, Jasper. Not like the others. You'll see."

Edward looked at me at that last bit and I mouthed over Kate's head "later."

We were finally shown into our little dining room, and a handsome, blond haired man stood quickly. The smile on his face when he saw Kate told me everything I needed to know—he was smitten.

He pulled Kate into his arms and gave her a sweet kiss. I felt Edward squeeze my hand a little tighter. I reciprocated and then let go. I reached out my hand to Garrett and said, "You must be Garrett."

He smiled as he shook my hand. "Jasper." His grip was firm, but he wasn't trying to make a point. He turned to Edward and held out his hand again, "And you, must be Edward," he said, his eyes twinkling as he repeated my words. "I know Kate sort of sprung me on you, but she's spoken so highly of you Jasper, and how happy you've been lately," he said with a knowing look at Edward, "and I really just wanted to meet you both. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," I said, and Edward murmured his approval as well.

After another minute we were all seated and ordered drinks. Garrett was also a writer, although he wrote crime and mystery novels. They met at the publishing house, quite by accident. Kate was nervously pushing the elevator buttons, trying to get it to hurry up because she only had half an hour for lunch, and Garrett just managed to shove himself through the doors as they were closing, practically knocking her over in the process. The rest, as they say, is history.

Garrett was warm and gregarious, and the conversation flowed easily. We were all enjoying ourselves, and the sake and beer went a long way toward soothing my prior bad mood. We ordered a variety of dishes: sushi, sashimi, tempura, hell it seemed like we ordered almost one of everything on the menu. Edward was the worst, the epicurean in him wanting to sample everything.

As we began to eat the first course, Edward's left hand drifted down to my thigh, caressing it gently. I turned to look at him, but his gaze was on our dinner companions. He carefully lifted a piece of albacore with his chopsticks, dipped it gently in the soy sauce, and brought it to his mouth. His lips parted and his tongue darted out to wrap around the tender morsel, and he moaned as he chewed the butter-soft fish. My pants tightened perceptibly at the sight and sound of it.

I tried to pay attention to the conversation around me—Edward and Garrett were discussing the effect of shows like CSI on mystery and crime novels—but I couldn't stop watching Edward as he ate. A piece of tuna, red and glistening, made its way to his mouth. Once again his tongue, pink, wet, and soft, wound around it. A drop of soy sauce taunted me from the corner of his mouth, but then his tongue darted out and lapped it up. My dick was now firmly pressed up against the zipper of my jeans, and I was getting uncomfortable. I shifted in my seat, trying to ease the ache. Edward gave me a sideways glance and . . . smiled. Son-of-a-bitch. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. His hand continued to caress my thigh, and I stabbed a piece of salmon in frustration. He chuckled lightly into his glass of beer.

Edward reached for a hand roll and ate it in a few bites, before licking his fingers. He turned to me, as Kate and Garrett were busy feeding each other, looked me straight in the eyes and sucked the remnants of seaweed and rice off his fingers, swirling his tongue and sucking his fingers deep into his mouth. Fuck me. I couldn't wait to get him home.

Just as quickly he returned his attention to Kate and Garrett, never missing a beat in the conversation and they were completely oblivious to what was going on. I didn't know how much more teasing I could take.

Edward's chopsticks reached for another piece of sashimi, and frankly at that point I couldn't care less what it was. Edward brought it to his mouth and flicked it with his tongue, gathering the juices from its flesh. All I could see was his mouth hovering over my cock, lapping at my slit and gathering what was currently pooling there.

I really needed the dinner to end.

Finally, finally, the gods were on my side. We had just finished our main course, and were deliberating over dessert, when Garrett's pager went off. His eyes lit up. "Oh my God!" He looked at Kate and said, "Irina's in labor!" Then he turned to us and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Umm, my sister is having her baby. I've gotta go."

Kate wound up offering to go with him, and after a few minutes, and several promises to meet again soon, Edward and I were alone—in a private dining room. I slid the door shut behind them and turned to look at him. He was leaning back on his elbows, a knowing smirk on his face.

"You are the devil," I said as I made my way over to him.

He threw his head back and laughed, exposing the soft column of his throat to me. I fell to my hands and knees and crawled over to him, and over him. "I already know what I want for dessert," I whispered in his ear as my hand traveled slowly up his thigh.

He moaned softly and his lips parted, that beautiful, pink tongue darting out to wet them. I attacked. My hand wrapped around the back of his neck and held him still as I plundered his mouth with mine. With my other hand gripping his side and pulling him closer, I ground my hips against his, desperately seeking friction, and moaning as my nearly painful erection pressed against his thigh.

Breaking away from his mouth, I placed hot, wet kisses along his jaw and down his neck, paying particular attention to the area along his collar bones, where he was extra sensitive.

A soft, "Ah fuck," escaped his lips as he began to grind back against me. His hands were in my hair, tugging just the way I liked it—just a hairsbreadth from too painful—and his leg slid up mine, hooking me and providing leverage for him to buck against me. Soft moans fell from his lips as I worked my mouth along his throat, and a tiny whimper as I nipped the delicate skin there. Kissing him again I was overwhelmed by the softness of his lips, his tongue, his mouth— warm and welcoming, and I wanted nothing more than to feel it wrapped around my cock. Pulling away from his lips, I ran my tongue back up to his ear where I whispered, "Do you want me baby?"

"Oh God yes!" he panted against me.

I smiled against his neck and laved the skin with my tongue. "My hot mouth on you, baby? You want that? Or, do you want to bend me over this table?"

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Jasper! Yes. Yes. Yes. Please!" he begged.

"Good," I said as I sat up and pulled away.

The look of frustration and disbelief on his face was priceless.

"Now you know how I've felt all night," I smirked as I stood and adjusted myself.

"Bastard," he whispered.

"It takes one," I replied with a raised brow. "Now, can we please go home so I can fuck my boyfriend senseless?" I asked as I held out a hand to help him up.

We paid the bill with unseemly haste, and spent the entire cab ride home sitting on our hands and exchanging smoldering looks; neither one wanting to be the first to break. We made it as far as the elevator in my building before Edward finally gave in, shoving me against the mirrored wall with a hand on my chest. As he slid down to his knees in front of me, his hand trailed down my chest, across my stomach, and finally flicked open the button of my pants. His other hand shot out and hit the "stop" button, bringing the car to a grinding halt. In seconds he hand my pants and shorts down around my knees. He looked up at me from under his lashes and licked his lips, then leaned forward and I felt his warm breath on my tip just before his tongue flicked out and licked my slit, gathering the pre-cum accumulating there.

"Fuuuck," I ground out as I watched him lick up and down my shaft, before plunging the entire length into his mouth. "Ahhh!" I cried as my head snapped back, banging into the mirror with a thud that I hardly registered. Every atom of my being was centered on the pleasure coursing through my throbbing cock. Edward slid up and down, effortlessly accommodating me with his talented, hot, wet mouth. My hand slid into his perfectly mussed hair, not to guide him because he was fucking perfect at that moment, but to connect with him. I needed to touch him, and wanted to touch him all over. For a fleeting moment I thought to pull him off so we could finish in the comfort of my home, our cocks in each other's mouths, but that lasted only until Edward used his tongue to press against the thick vein on the underside of my dick, while his finger pressed against my perineum, massaging me from the outside.

"Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh baby . . . shit . . . shit . . . shit," I practically screamed as I came hard in his mouth, my epic day and night of cockblocking finally at an end. He kept sucking lightly at me, catching every last drop, until he gently released me from his mouth.

My eyes were unfocused, and my legs unsteady, as I tried to catch my breath. Edward stood up, bringing my pants with him and buttoning them for me, since I was still shaking. He released the elevator car once more, and I grabbed his face and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips.

"I love you so fucking much," I babbled in my post-orgasmic glow. He smiled against my mouth and pulled away just as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. My neighbors, an elderly couple, were waiting for the elevator when we stepped out.

"We thought maybe it was stuck," Mr. Clearwater said. "It took so long."

"I know," Edward said without a moment's hesitation. "We waited downstairs forever, and I thought we'd have to take the stairs, but then it finally showed. Weird, huh?"

I felt like my eyes were bugging out of my head, but the Clearwaters just nodded and made their way into the car. As the doors were sliding shut I heard Mrs. Clearwater saying, "Such nice, clean cut boys . . ."

Edward and I began cracking up as we walked down the hall to my door. As I fumbled slightly with the lock, I felt him press up against me, his hardened length pushing firmly against my ass. I ground back against him as I finally slid the key into the lock, and smirked at the moan he tried to suppress. We walked in and as soon as we cleared the door Edward was on me.

My hands wound their way into his hair and we made out against the door like a couple of teenagers, until we finally broke apart, panting. He pulled me into the living room by my belt loops and then it was all frantic fingers, hot tongues and clothes flying in every direction. Edward pulled me close to him and grasped us both in his hand, stroking us together until I was as crazed as I'd been earlier that night.

"Need you, baby," I groaned. Grasp. Stroke. Twist. Slide. "Ungh . . . need . . . you . . . now."

He spun me around, back to chest, his hand still deftly stroking me. His mouth near my ear, breath hot and sweet and whispering, "Bend over baby."

I started to drop to my hands and knees, but Edward grabbed my hands and placed them on the back of the couch. "Keep them there," he demanded. He pulled my hips back, and I felt the drizzle of lube from the bottle we kept hidden in the coffee table. First one, then another finger slid into me, his other hand fisted into my hair, pulling my head back as he fucked me with his fingers.

"Beautiful," I heard him whisper.

Then suddenly his fingers were gone and he slid into me, groaning. The hand in my hair slackened and he leaned over me, kissing my spine tenderly. "Are you okay?" he asked. Always careful, always concerned about me.

I whimpered a pathetic, "God yes," my need to feel him moving barely contained.

I felt his lips smile against my back and his tongue swipe a trail up my spine. His chest pressed against me, and I felt full with him. Then his voice was in my ear once more, "Good. Now hang on cowboy." And he pulled out of me and thrust back in, deep and perfect.

He set a fast, hard pace that soon had me panting, a string of profanities and pleas coming from my lips. I moved my hand, intent on stroking myself, but he all but stopped moving and placed it back on the sofa. "I told you to keep them there, Jasper," his voice commanding, demanding.

He stroked the back of my neck. "Do you know why?"

I shook my head, unable to speak.

"Have you heard of the p-spot, Jas?"

I trembled with need as I moaned my breathy, "Yes."

"Well, tonight we're going to find yours."

And then he proceeded to do just that.

I gripped the sofa tight as Edward resumed his movements, thrusting deeper, testing different angles, until suddenly . . . Oh. My. Fucking. God.

"Oh fuck . . . Edward! I'm. . . Oh God oh God oh God," I screamed as I shot my cum all over the sofa below me—hands free.

Edward's fingers dug into my hips then and a moment later he pulled me tight to him and stilled as he filled me, and whispered, "Fucking hell Jas. I love you so much. So much." He rocked slowly as the last of his tremors passed.

We collapsed together in a heap, Edward thoughtfully pulling us to the side and away from the puddle of cum on the couch.

After a few minutes, I said, "I think we ruined the couch."

"Good, I hated this couch anyway," he said nuzzling his face in my neck.

"Hey!" I said, only pretending to be offended. He was right. It was an ugly couch. "Still," I pouted. "I'll have to go get a new one."

"Not if you move in with me," he breathed against my neck, and then became quiet, waiting for my reaction.

I turned to look at him. "Are you serious?"

"Do you really have to ask me that? Of course I'm serious. I want to go to bed with you every night, and wake up with you in my arms. I want to watch you do that Thai Chi shit every morning when you think I'm still sleeping, and I want to make you soup when you're sick. I want—"

I placed my finger against his lips, silencing him. "Yes." His smile lit his face. "On one condition." I watched as he furrowed his brow. "I make the coffee. Really Edward, you make the worst coffee," I said with a grin.

"Smart ass," he grumbled.

"Hey, you like my smart ass," I retorted.

"You have no idea."

I reached behind him, slid my hand down and grabbed a handful of his ass cheek. "Oh yes, I do," I smirked. "Let me show you."

We decided that if we were getting rid of the couch, we may as well do it right, and we defiled it for the rest of the week before taking it out to the curb in the dead of night, laughing the entire way like a couple of drunken frat boys, before falling into bed nestled together like spoons in a drawer.

"I love you, baby."

"Love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: I hoped you liked this little slice of Jasper and Edward's life. Maybe there will be others.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - this chapter contains a little dominance, a little bondage, some spanking, and lots of sex. If it's not your cuppa, run away now.
> 
> And for the record, my Chocolate boys are not "into" BDSM, they're just being playful and experimenting. This shouldn't be taken as a primer on anything. 
> 
> Big thanks to Chicklette for her beta skills. *hangs head in shame* It seems this old dog forgot all her lessons and gave Chicklette a head 'splosion from all the adverbs used. Fer serious, it was baaaaad.

My flight was delayed by an hour, so I sent Edward a quick text.

Flight delayed. Meet you at the club. ILY.

Two minutes later my phone chirped.

See you there. Miss you.

I'd spent the week in New York doing a round of interviews and book signings for my latest novel. Edward and I decided to celebrate by going out dancing with some friends when I got home. I knew that by Friday night everyone would be itching to leave already, so I figured they could get started and I'd meet them there.

A little while later, I sat back in my seat and thought about how effortlessly Edward and I had slipped into our life together. I'd been nervous after I agreed to move in with him. I'd never lived with anyone before. I mean, I'd had roommates in college, but I'd never lived with a partner before. I had no idea how it would work. What if we found out things we didn't like about each other? What if, what if, what if?

I'd worried for naught. Like everything else between Edward and me, things just clicked and we seamlessly meshed our lives together. Of course living with Edward meant starting a more rigorous exercise routine because his chocolate croissants were going to make my waistline expand. My usual jog two or three times a week, with a few crunches thrown in for good measure, weren't going to cut it anymore. So, in addition to joining a gym, we planned to go out dancing at least once a week, which was something we loved doing anyway.

By the time the plane landed and I caught a cab from the airport, Edward and our friends had been at the club for about an hour and a half. I made my way in, checked my jacket and headed to the dance floor, knowing that Edward, Alice, Peter and Felix would be there. I shrugged off the advances of a couple of boys, my eyes roving across the floor for one boy, one man, in particular.

I caught sight of Felix's black hair and huge frame wrapped around Peter's lankier body, while Alice twirled pixie-like in between all the boys on the dance floor. I chuckled at the image of her as a latter-day Tinkerbell sprinkling "fairy" dust on all the boys on the dance floor. Finally, I glimpsed the shock of bronze hair that I'd been looking for, but as I did the smile slid from my face.

Dancing with Edward was a bare-chested boy, a pretty little twink who was rubbing his ass against Edward's crotch. Edward's eyes were closed and his head thrown back in abandon as he lost himself to the music. A part of me knew he was just dancing, but I felt a jealous rage bubble up inside me anyway. Why couldn't he just dance with Alice, hell or even with Peter and Felix, until I arrived?

I stared at the two of them until Edward's head snapped forward and his eyes opened and gazed directly into mine. We remained frozen like that for a moment, before the wicked smile I'd come to know so well made its way onto his face. His hands slid across the boy's chest, pulling him closer as he continued to sway and grind with him. The boy's head lolled back against Edward's shoulder and his hand wound its way into Edward's hair, but Edward's eyes never left mine.

Oh I don't think so!

Edward continued to watch me as I made my way across the dance floor. I slid through the writhing bodies towards him. As I went, I loosened my tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of my shirt, then my cuffs and rolled my sleeves. Our eyes were locked together the entire time. I finally stopped in front of them. The boy looked up at me about to say something, but I looked at him and said, "Get lost."

Edward quirked a brow and the boy started to protest again so I looked at him and growled, "Get. Lost. Now!"

The boy skittered away, but Edward continued to dance; his body moving sinuously, sinfully. He reached out and grabbed the ends of my tie in his hands, wrapping them around his wrists, and pulled me to him. I turned my head away, still jealous over what I'd seen. He bent his head to my neck and licked and nipped at my throat, while holding me in place with my tie. He ground his hips against mine, continuing to move with the music.

Edward looked up at me from beneath his lashes, his hazel eyes were golden in the light of the club, and full of mischief and longing. "I missed you, baby."

"Could have fooled me," I said angrily, still battling my jealousy.

"Mmmmm, I think I like Jealous Jasper," he purred in my ear as he laved my neck once again with his tongue. "Fucking hot," he grinned at me.

I twined my hand into the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him back to look at him. "Yeah?"

He bit his lip and nodded.

Well fuck me if that just didn't feed my inner Neanderthal. I tightened the hand in his hair and grabbed his hip with the other one, pulling him tight to me. "Then you'd better get your pretty ass to the car by the time I count to fifty, or I'm gonna make sure it's good and sore before I fuck you," I demanded.

Edward's eyes grew wide, and frankly I didn't even know where my words came from. I quirked an eyebrow at him and said, "One . . ."

Edward smiled and sauntered off, clearly not rushing. I don't know if he was calling my bluff, or if the thought of being spanked turned him on, but I know that I was getting hard as steel watching him take his time saying goodbye to Alice, Felix and Peter. He shot a look over his shoulder at me and I mouthed "twenty-five."

Edward's lips parted as I saw his breathing increase. If hadn't believed me before, he seemed to at that moment, and I could see the flush of arousal spread over his neck and chest. He turned and headed for the exit, moving a little faster.

I kept count in my head as I followed him several paces behind. He'd made it out the door when I hit fifty, and I took my time getting my coat, leaving him to stew by the car; stew and wonder if he'd made it in time. I found him waiting by the car, nervously tossing the keys back and forth in his hands. I didn't say a word as I approached him. I just held out my hand and waited for the keys.

I rarely drove, and at first it looked like Edward was going to protest, but something on my face must have stopped him because he snapped his mouth shut and handed me the keys without a peep. I walked around to the other side of the car and as I pulled on the handle Edward said, "Jas, I—"

I held up my hand, silencing him. "Not another word, Edward. You're in enough trouble as it is. Now get your ass in the car."

Edward's eyes grew big at my words, but he did as I said.

I slid into the driver's seat, and adjusted the chair and rearview mirror. I looked over at Edward. He licked his lips nervously, and at the sight of his pink tongue swiping across his plump lips, I nearly caved and attacked his mouth with mine. Instead, I eyed his crotch and saw that he was straining against the fly of his pants.

He grinned and cocked an eyebrow at me. I decided to wipe the smirk from his face.

"Take it out," I ordered.

He smiled and slowly undid his pants, taunting me as he wiggled his hips to lower his pants and briefs enough to free his cock. It bounced a little, slapping against his stomach as he maneuvered back into a seated position. I leaned forward and grabbed him by the back of the neck, bringing my lips close to his, but not kissing him, and said, "Now touch yourself, Edward."

He groaned and tried to kiss me, but I held onto his neck tightly, giving him no quarter. "Touch yourself," I repeated and I released him and sat back in my seat to watch. Edward grasped his dick and began to stroke himself. "Good," I said. "Now don't stop until we get home." He nodded. "And Edward," I continued. "Don't you dare come."

I heard him moan as I turned to face forward and put the car in gear. After we pulled out of the parking lot, I spoke again.

"I had hoped to spend the evening dancing with you, and then making love to you, but instead I find myself needing to be reassured of your love for me, Edward." We came to a red light, and I turned to look at him. He continued to stroke himself, but I could see the strain of holding back on his face; beads of sweat had popped out on his upper lip and along his hairline, and his face was flushed pink from the effort. "You are going to show me just how much you want to please me, aren't you Edward?" At his emphatic nod I continued, "And you're going to prove to me that I'm the only one that pleases you, aren't you?"

"Oh God, yes Jasper," he panted.

"And you're going to accept your punishment like a good boy?"

"P . . . punishment?"

"Did you think I was kidding when I said I was going to make sure your ass was sore?"

"I . . . I . . ." he floundered.

I kept my eyes trained on him. "Edward, I'm going to spank your ass until it is the same beautiful shade of red as your cheeks."

"Fuck," he groaned as the light turned green and I continued on our way home.

"And then I'm going to fuck you, Edward. I'm going to fuck you long and hard, and I'm going to take my pleasure in that sweet ass of yours over and over tonight," I said as I kept my eyes trained on the road ahead of me. My own dick was straining in my pants, and I was thankful that the black fabric would conceal the wet spot that was undoubtedly forming from all the pre-cum that was leaking from the tip.

"Jesus Jas," he whimpered. "I don't know if I can hold off . . . please," he begged.

"Don't you dare come, Edward," I growled. I don't know where the display of dominance came from, but something in me snapped when I saw Edward with that boy and I needed to claim him again, make sure he was mine and I was his.

We pulled into the loft's parking garage and into our spot. I killed the engine and got out of the car without another word, heading for the elevator. I heard Edward scrambling behind me, trying to pull up his pants and get out of the car, all at the same time. He walked up behind me just as the elevator doors opened. I held them open for him, hit the button, and then grabbed him by his face and kissed him deeply.

I felt his knees buckle a little, and he moaned into my mouth. I let him go suddenly and he stumbled against the elevator wall. "Jesus, Jas," he groaned, his voice needy and desperate.

The doors opened and I walked into the loft, Edward trailing behind me. I stepped around him, closed the door and came up behind him. One hand wrapped around his chest and the other reached down to cup him through his jeans. I ran my nose along his neck, taking in his vanilla and cinnamon, his sweat and musk. I bit down on his earlobe and whispered, "I want you naked and on your knees on the bed in two minutes."

Edward whimpered and his hips bucked against my hand. I pushed him forward and swatted him on the ass. I swear he ran to the room, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. I reached down to adjust myself, and took a minute to take a deep breath. For a minute I wondered if I could really do it, if I could really play Dom to his submissive for a night. Neither one of us was in "the scene," but we'd played around a bit with blindfolds and a pair of gag handcuffs Emmett had given us as a housewarming present, but those had been playful, sensual times.

I was going to take it to a whole other level, even if it was just for a night.

I exhaled and closed my eyes. I pictured Edward naked, his hands stretched over his head and bound to the headboard and my dick throbbed.

Oh yeah, I could do it.

I walked to the room and found Edward exactly as I'd directed. He was gloriously naked and on his knees, leaning back on his heels, his palms flat on his thighs. His cock was standing proud; thick and hard, the head nearly purple, a steady stream of pre-cum dripping from the tip.

I said nothing, but walked to the closet and removed several neckties. I kicked off my shoes and socks, and placing the ties on the bed behind him, walked back around the bed to face Edward. I watched his face as I slowly unbuttoned my shirt until it was hanging open, but I didn't take it off. I saw his eyes widen and his face flush as he took in the planes of my chest. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and I knew he was thinking about running it over my bare skin, which was something he loved to do.

"Jas—"

"You will not speak unless I ask you to. Nod your head if you understand me."

Edward nodded and I watched as he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

I snapped the top button of my pants, slid the zipper down and pulled out my aching cock. I gave it a couple of quick pumps, enjoying the way Edward stared at it with such longing. I released myself and said, "Suck me."

Edward reached for me, but I stopped him. "Only with your mouth," I demanded.

Another small moan escaped him as he leaned onto his hands and took me into his mouth. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to come on the spot. I grabbed his head and held him still, determined to make it last longer. After I was in control again, I pulled back a little, but kept my hands on his head, guiding him as he slid his beautiful mouth up and down my dick.

"That's it, baby. You have no idea how beautiful your mouth looks wrapped around my cock," I said. "I swear your mouth was made for just for sucking me. Only me."

Another low groan tore from his throat and sent vibrations racing to my balls. I grabbed his hair tighter and began to thrust, taking control and fucking his mouth, feeling him try to relax his throat as I began to hit the back, until finally I slid right past his gag reflex and down his throat.

I came with a hiss. "That's it, baby. Take it all," I muttered as I shot down his throat. I felt Edward swallow, the muscles squeezing me and I pulled back a little so he could breathe and finish swallowing it all. He took one last, loving suck and released me from his mouth.

I half expected him to look smug, with his wicked little smirk on his face, but all I saw was desperation. I looked down and his cock was so hard and so dark, I thought he might very well explode. I'd wanted to tease him some more, but that would have been too cruel. I would tease him more after.

I tucked myself back into my pants. "Lie down," I ordered.

Edward scrambled to comply. I walked to the other side of the bed, grabbing the ties. "Arms in front of you, crossed at the wrist." When his hands were in front of him, I wound one of the ties around both wrists. He pulled on them experimentally, and while there was some give, he couldn't pull them apart.

"Lift them up over your head."

I proceeded to run another tie through the one wrapped around his wrists and then secured it to the headboard, so that there were several inches of tie between his wrists and the headboard. I grabbed his legs and pulled him lower on the bed to take up the slack. His arms were stretched above his head, just like I'd pictured earlier; the muscles taut and minutely flexing and twitching.

Then I used the remaining ties to secure his legs to the footboard, spreading him wide open. As I did so, I would graze the inside of his leg with my fingertips or scratch my nail along his thigh. His moans and whimpers were beautiful. When I'd tied his second foot, I leaned forward and nipped at his ankle. Edward's hips bucked off the bed in response and a loud, nearly painful whine erupted from him. I looked up and his eyes were screwed shut as he tried to control his reaction. His breaths were coming in pants.

"Look at me, Edward," I demanded. "Keep your eyes on me." His eyes snapped open and I could see his pupils were dilated. I ran my tongue up the inside of his ankle, stopping at the knee and nipping at the tender flesh near the underside. His breathing grew more ragged.

I reached the apex of his thighs and ran my nose along the crease of his leg where it joined his hip, reveling in his smell. I laved it with my tongue and then took each of his balls into my mouth in turn, sucking on them gently. When I released them I looked up and saw that Edward was still watching me, but he looked wild, desperate and completely out of control.

I licked his beautiful cock from base to tip, eliciting a frantic scream this time. I slid my tongue into his slit, tasting the liquid there. "Is there something you want, Edward?" I teased. He nodded frantically, somehow remembering not to talk unless I told him to. "Tell me what you want."

"I want to come!" he practically shouted.

I chuckled and said, "Oh, I'm sure you do, but I think you need to convince me, Edward." I licked the sides of his shaft once more, drenching them in saliva. "Beg, Edward. Beg me to let you come."

And he did. A stream of pleas and entreaties spilling from his lips, all laced with a frenzied panic. I gripped him in my hand and began to stroke. A choked cry escaped his lips and his eyes rolled back. "Look at me!" I demanded again. He focused on me once more and I continued. "That's it beautiful. Watch me make you come." I could feel his cock begin to pulse and expand in my hand, saw his thighs tense in anticipation of his orgasm. "That's it. Tell me who makes you feel like this."

"Oh god," he groaned.

"Tell me," I commanded. "Or, I'll stop," and I slowed down slightly.

"YOU!" he screamed. "Only you. Only ever you," he practically sobbed.

"That's right. I do this for you. Me! Now come for me, Edward!"

His orgasm was a sight to behold. He screamed aloud; my name echoing off the walls and probably waking the neighbors. He came so hard it shot out across his stomach and his chest, some even went over his shoulder and hit the headboard. I stroked him through it, until the last drops finally oozed out.

I kissed his tip gently and his body spasmed; his mouth opened soundlessly. I crawled over him a bit, running my tongue along his abdomen, cleaning some of the mess and enjoying the taste of him. I stood and walked over to the head of the bed. His eyes were closed and his breathing was still heavy. He was coated in a light sheen of sweat and I couldn't resist him. I slid my hand under his head, grasping him by the hair at the nape of his neck. "Fucking beautiful," I whispered. His eyes flew open and I crashed my mouth to his. His lips parted and he groaned as our tongues swirled together, tasting himself on me. I pulled back and bit his lower lip, just enough to smart but not cause real pain. Then I released his mouth and walked to the bathroom.

As soon as I entered, I gripped the counter for support. I'd never seen, never done, never experienced anything as erotic as what had just happened in my life, and it felt as though my knees would buckle. My dick was hard as steel once more and throbbing as if I hadn't just cum fifteen minutes earlier.

I was shocked at what I'd done. Not that I thought there was anything wrong with it, not by a long shot, but I was completely surprised at my ability to pull it off and, even more than that, I was shocked at how turned on it made me. I'd never felt such . . . power, and it was heady, intoxicating, and I was craving more.

I stripped off my pants and rinsed myself quickly with a wet washcloth, then ran another one under the hot water and went back to Edward. He was still laying there with his eyes closed, his body much more relaxed. His eyes fluttered open as I began to clean him up, and an appreciative sigh escaped his lips.

When I finished, I tossed the washcloth aside, contemplating my next move. Edward suddenly said, "Jesus Jas, that was—"

"Did I tell you to speak?" I asked.

His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Did you think I was done with you, Edward?" I leaned over him, licked his lip and watched as he opened his mouth, expecting a kiss. "I'm nowhere near done with you beautiful," I whispered against his mouth. "Did you forget my promise about your ass?"

I pulled away suddenly and strode to the foot of the bed, hearing him suck in a ragged breath. I untied his ankles, massaging them and checking to see that there were no bruises or marks. When I was satisfied that he was alright, I pushed his legs up so his knees bent, encouraging him to scoot up a bit and giving him slack against the binds on his arms.

"That's it. Now turn over baby. On your knees."

Edward turned over on legs still shaky from his orgasm. He was on his knees, his hands in front of him, the tie between his wrists and the headboard twisting easily to accommodate him. He turned to look at me, his wicked grin resurfacing.

I gave him quick slap on his left cheek that caused him to buck forward, and he looked back at me sheepishly. I grabbed his hips, pulling him taut against the headboard tie once more. I nudged his knees apart as far as he could comfortably spread them and remain upright, then tied his ankles to the footboard once more. I ran my hand along his backs of his legs and up over his ass, pausing to kiss each cheek. I leaned over him, pressing my chest against his back and nudging the crack of his ass with my hard-on.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" I asked. When he didn't respond I said, "Answer me."

"Y . . . yes," he stuttered.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you now?"

He shook his head.

"I'm going to spank you, Edward."

A long moan escaped his mouth.

I leaned over him once more. "You like that idea, don't you?" I ground against him again and he moaned once more. "Oh yeah, you do. But I want to hear it baby. I want you to answer me. Do you want to be spanked, Edward?"

"Yes," he whispered.

I pulled back and just took in the sight of him tied up and spread open for me. "You look beautiful like this," I continued. "Like a banquet spread out just for me. You are just for me, aren't you Edward?" I asked. "Answer me."

"Yes," he panted. "Yes, yes, yes. Only for you."

My hand came down across his right cheek with a loud smack. "Then why were you all over that little twink?" Smack. The left cheek once more. "Did you enjoy the way he felt pressed against you?" Smack. Right cheek. "Did you like the feel of his chest under your fingers?" Smack. Left. "Did you like the way he grabbed your hair?" Smack. Right. "Did you grind yourself against him before I got there?" Smack. Left. "Did you get hard for him?" Smack. Right.

I was panting at that point, straining with the effort of holding back so that I wouldn't hit him too hard, wouldn't really hurt him. I was covered in sweat and saw that Edward was as well. His body was straining against the ties; the cords of his tendons raised and every muscle defined and working hard. I don't think I'd ever taken the time to realize just how beautiful he looked like that—straining and on the edge.

I rubbed my hands over his heated skin, soothing the sting. I leaned over him, my mouth near his ear and whispered, "Are you okay?"

His voice was shaky, but he whimpered out a "Yes, god yes," and then pushed his ass out toward me.

That was enough for me.

"Did you enjoy making me jealous?" Smack. Left. "Answer me."

"Yes," he mumbled.

Smack. Right. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"Yes!" he cried out.

"Did you tell him you were mine?" Smack. Left. "Answer me."

"No," he moaned and shook his head.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

His ass was red and hot to the touch. It looked . . . amazing. It was erotic and sensual, and all I wanted to do was kiss and lick and soothe it. But that would have to wait.

"Are you, Edward? Are you mine?" I asked, and realized I'd taken a shaky breath, partly afraid to hear the answer. "Answer me."

"Yes, Jasper. Oh god, yes. Always. Yours, always yours," he cried out.

Thank god, I thought. "Then prove it," I replied.

I moved back, untied his ankles and urged him to move forward, taking up the slack of the tie binding his wrists to the headboard, and allowing him to lean back on his heels, which he did for exactly one second before he hissed and sat upright again. I chuckled as I reached into the nightstand drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube.

I flicked the lid open and drizzled a generous amount down the crack of Edward's ass, making him flinch as the cool liquid hit his burning skin. I poured more on my fingers and then slid one in. A loud moan escaped him and he pressed back against my hand.

"That's it," I whispered and added a second finger, slowly fucking him with both; stretching him, preparing him. He continued to rock against my hand and making the sexiest fucking sounds; desperate, needy sounds. "That's it baby, show me how bad you want it," I said as I slipped a third finger in.

"Please Jasper, please," he begged, all pretense of not speaking gone.

"Please what, Edward? What do you want baby?"

"You. I want you inside me," he pleaded, his hips bucking and rocking against my hand as he fucked himself on my fingers.

"Good answer," I smirked and withdrew my fingers. I urged him forward. "Grab onto the headboard," I instructed and then I repositioned myself under Edward, with my back against the headboard. I coated myself with more lube and looked up at him. His eyes were dark and wild, and his face was flushed. He was beautiful.

And he was mine.

"Climb on. Show me how much you want me inside you baby."

He smiled and lowered his hips slowly until the head slipped in and he paused, adjusting to the feel before he slid the rest of the way down, until I was fully seated inside him. Both of us groaned at the sensation.

"Ride me," I told him. "And don't let go of the headboard."

Edward began to move up and down, leveraging the headboard and working his thighs. I watched myself slide in and out of him. I watched as my cock, glistening with lube buried itself inside him over and over. I watched as his erection bounced in front of me, pulsing, thick and beautiful. I watched as he fucked me, as he loved me; deep, exquisite, and perfect.

A continuous stream of sounds were emanating from him, frantic and magnificent, arousing me even further.

"That's it baby," I grunted. "Tell me how good you feel."

"Oh God, Jas. Fuck. You feel so good. So, so good, baby." His eyes squeezed shut and I could tell from the way his jaw was clenched that he was holding back, trying to keep from coming.

"I want to watch you come again, Edward. Show me. Show me how good I make you feel."

Edward whimpered and muttered a quiet "fuck" as he redoubled his efforts. He angled his hips slightly and when I heard his low, guttural moan, I knew he was close.

"Now baby, now," I urged.

He slammed back down and a keening wail erupted from him as he came all over my stomach.

"Yes," I hissed. "That's it. Fuck. So fucking hot." I finally grabbed his hips and rocked into him. "God I love you," I muttered as I thrust up into him. "So good. So tight," I continued, thrusting my hips, pulling him to me, burying myself as deeply as I could.

"Love you, Jas. Love you so much. Only you baby. Only you."

His words took me over the edge and I dug my fingers into his hips as I stilled, holding him tightly to me as I came and came and came, his name spilling from my lips over and over and over. When I caught my breath I sat up and grabbed his face, pulling him to me for kiss. I kissed him again and again, brushing my mouth against his, peppering his face with kisses and muttering, "Love you. Love you. Love you," until finally he pulled back.

"I love you too, Jas. You think you can untie me now?" he asked.

"Oh God, Edward! I'm sorry," I said, feeling sheepish. I slid out from under him and untied his hands, then laid him down on the bed. "I'll be right back." I went to the bathroom and ran the bath, then came back and took Edward by the hand. "C'mon. Let me take care of you."

He smiled at me with that same smile that took my breath away the day we met, and let me pull him up. We sank into the water, and I pulled Edward to me, his back against my chest. Edward hissed a little when he first sat in the hot water, and I cringed.

"Fuck, Edward. I'm so sorry baby."

He turned in the water and cupped my face with his hands. "Hey. None of that. It's not that bad, really. And in case you couldn't tell, I really enjoyed myself." He kissed the corner of my mouth.

"Yeah? You're really okay with it?"

"Yes baby, I really am," he said as he turned back around, pulling my arm around his chest and leaning his head against my shoulder. "Although, I have to say I never thought you had that in you, Jas. It's always the quiet ones," he chuckled.

"Oh Jesus, Edward, not the clichés!"

I felt him laughing. "But Jas, still waters run deep."

I groaned.

"Clearly you speak softly and carry a big stick."

"No, no, no," I whined.

I heard him snort before he said, "Seriously Jas, you took to that like a duck to water."

"Oh God," I moaned. "Stop! Please. I'm begging you!"

His entire body was shaking with laughter. "Oh, so now you're the one begging?"

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see me, and splashed him with water.

"Hey!" he sputtered.

"Hey what?" I said innocently. "You reap what you sow."

He mock gasped. "Oh my god! I had no idea it was contagious," he snickered.

I laughed along with him and wrapped my arms and legs around him tighter, feeling myself so filled with love for him, that for a moment I forgot to breathe. After a few minutes we settled down and allowed the hot water to render us languid and quiet.

"I am sorry," I whispered.

"I already told you I'm fine," he said.

"I mean for getting so jealous. I just . . ."

"You just what?"

I took a deep breath. "It's just when I saw you with him . . . I don't know, something in me sort of . . . snapped. I just knew that I needed to make you mine again. Mark you as mine in some way. God, that sounds so Neanderthal," I moaned.

Edward pulled away from me and turned around, straddling my lap, the water slopping over the side of the tub. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. "Jasper that was one of the sexiest, hottest things I've ever experienced, and hearing you say that just adds to it. I knew I was provoking you. I knew I was pushing your buttons. I can't say I expected this exactly, but I'm not complaining either. If I wanted you to stop, I would have said so."

I looked at him, at the sincerity and love reflected in his eyes. I leaned my forehead against his and whispered. "I just . . . I just love you so much it scares me sometimes."

"I love you too, Jas. Always."

I nodded my head against his and we rested there for a moment. Then he said, "Hey, I seem to remember you saying something about 'fucking me long and hard and taking my sweet ass over and over,' or was that some other guy?"

I growled, but then brought my hands to his face and kissed him. "C'mon," I said as I pulled him out of the bath. I grabbed a towel and dried him off. When I dried his back, I dropped to my knees and kissed his cheeks, which were still pink, before taking some lotion and carefully rubbing it in. Edward leaned forward, grabbing the edge of the sink and moaned in pleasure.

When I finished, I dried myself off quickly and pulled him back to the bed.

"Oh so you are going to make good on your threat," he teased.

"No baby. I'm not. I'm going to make love to my boyfriend now."

And I did; slow and gentle. As were falling asleep later that night, or rather early the next morning, our limbs tangled and sweaty, Edward whispered, "I love you Jas."

I curled up around him, and recited, "So, fall asleep love, loved by me... for I know love, I am loved by thee."

"Mmmm," he murmured. "I don't know that one. Be careful, or I'll have to accuse you of being clichéd."

I nuzzled his neck with my nose. "It's Browning. You can never be clichéd reciting Browning. Now shush, and go to sleep," I chided as my eyes slid shut; my arms and my heart full of Edward.


	4. Chapter 4

"Tell me again why I agreed to this?" I asked with a groan when Edward broke off our kiss.

"Tradition, baby. The bride and groom aren't supposed to be together the night before the wedding."

"But Edward, neither of us is a bride," I whined. "Doesn't that count?"

He laughed. "I don't know baby, you just might be pretty enough—"

I growled. "Don't even say it! I am not 'pretty!'"

He laughed even harder. "Oh, oh, it's even better when you're pouting."

"Yeah?" I asked. "So," I continued, sticking out my lower lip and looking up at Edward, "does that mean you'll stay?"

He kissed me, sucking my lower lip, then pushed away. "No! Now stop it."

"Fine," I groused. "I still don't know why I have to stay at your parents' house and not the loft. You'll be at James' house anyway."

"Because your parents don't live here, and Rose and Emmett have their hands full with the baby, and James wants to hang out with me on my 'last night of bachelorhood.'"

"Okay, okay," I said with my hands up in the air. "I give up. You win. I'm spending the night before our wedding at your parents' house. Happy?"

"You always make me happy, Jasper."

"Sap," I teased.

"Yes, but you love me."

"I do," I said. Then pushed him against the wall and kissed him hard, grinding my hips against him. "And I want you so fucking badly I can't stand it. I can't wait to fuck my husband," I told him with a punctuated thrust against him.

"Fuck, Jasper." It was Edward's turn to whine.

I pulled away. "Now, don't you have some sort of bachelor thing to do?"

"Evil," he said, pointing a finger at me. "Evil."

I cackled like a B movie villain.

"We're really doing this tomorrow, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," I sighed and smiled. "We really are."

In actuality we were having our commitment ceremony and celebration. We would be stopping Massachusetts, before heading on our honeymoon, for the actual "legal" wedding. That didn't really matter though. Having our friends and family there, to bear witness to our love and devotion to each other, that was the important part.

Thirty minutes later, Edward finally left. I spent some time with Esme and Carlisle, but went upstairs early to try and relax and make some last minute tweaks to my vows. I tried to work on my vows, at any rate, but I kept thinking of Edward instead.

Eventually, I lay down on the bed in his childhood room and stared up at the ceiling. I was hard and aching, trying not to think of him, but it was near impossible when I was surrounded by everything Edward. There were pictures of him all over the room. Edward playing Little League and soccer, baking with Esme, graduating high school, even one of him and his friend Angela at prom.

"The best beard in the world," he'd called her.

I tossed and turned, but eventually settled into a fitful slumber. I was dreaming that Edward was with me. I could even feel the weight of him on me, the touch of his hands as they intertwined with mine above my head, the grind of his hips against mine. I heard a moan, low and long, and realized it was coming from me.

It woke me up.

And I realized, I wasn't dreaming.

"Edward?" I asked. My brain was still fuzzy and sleepy.

"Mmmm," he replied, leaning in for a kiss.

"Edward! What are you doing here?" I hissed and went to move, but I couldn't. Edward had taken the pink, fuzz-lined cuffs Emmett gave us as a joke, looped them through the headboard, and attached them to my wrists. "Edward?"

His grin scared me and turned me on in equal measure.

"Hello, love," he whispered.

I yanked on the handcuffs. "Edward, your parents are in the room next door," I whispered back.

"That's why I need you to be very quiet, baby," he said, before leaning down and nipping my lip with his teeth.

"Edward . . . Edward . . . Ed . . . Oh god," my whispered pleas were cut off as he swooped down on my cock and swallowed me to the base. My hips bucked of their own accord, and I heard Edward chuckle as he continued to suck and slurp.

My whimpers went unheeded, as Edward's tongue did sinful, glorious things to me.

"This," I strained to stay quiet. "This is why you wanted me to stay here, isn't it?"

He mouthed the tip of my cock some more, then let me slide from his lips with a wet pop. "Well, there's no way I could have sneaked in on you at the loft with the alarm system, and this is the last time we'll have any reason for just one of us to stay in this room."

As he talked he stroked me, long, sure strokes that were bringing me closer and closer to the edge. It was taking everything in me not to make a sound. I was always so vocal and verbal during sex, especially sex with Edward, and he knew it.

"Edward, please," I pleaded. "Undo my hands."

He shook his head.

"Just one hand," I bargained.

He shook his head. "No," he said with another wicked smile. "I don't want you covering your mouth with your hand, or pulling the pillow over your face," he said before giving the head of my dick another suck.

"Please, Edward!" I begged.

"No. Now hush, before you wake up my parents," he admonished, and he lowered his head again. Only instead taking me back into his mouth, he ran his tongue over my balls, carefully sucking on each one, rolling them with his tongue, all the while still stroking me at that same, slow, maddening pace.

And then he went lower. His tongue stroked the delicate skin behind my balls, pressing against it.

A hushed and strangled "Edward!" was all I managed before he threw my legs over his shoulders and ran his tongue from the top of my ass all the way down, painting a broad wet swath of heat and sensation that left me breathless.

He started to tease me with that wicked tongue of his, circling the edges of my hole, lapping at me, tormenting me with sudden, random stabs of his tongue inside me. I was panting and writhing and doing everything in my power to keep quiet.

"Edward, oh god," I moaned, trying to keep it quiet. "I can't . . . can't . . ."

"Shh," he breathed against me, never faltering in his attentions, his insistent tongue driving me to the edge of sanity.

I bit my lip to the point that I drew blood. The last time Edward rimmed me, I came so hard, yelled so loud, someone out on the street started applauding. Having to stay quiet was exquisite torture and he knew it, hell, it was obviously the reason he'd planned everything, but I was determined not to break. There was no way I could face Carlisle and Esme in the morning otherwise.

My hips were bucking as I sought more, more of his mouth on me, his tongue in me. My cock was straining up, the tip glossy and wet, leaking, desperate for release. And in the quiet of the house, without my own cries to mask it, all I could hear were the obscene and decadent sounds of Edward's mouth, as he licked and sucked and hummed in pleasure against me, and the occasional clink of the handcuffs on the headboard when I strained to push my ass harder against his face.

I could feel the buildup of my orgasm, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to stay quiet. It was a battle inside me, my body urging me to let go, to give in, while my brain tried to hold back, to keep quiet. The dichotomy was pushing me harder and faster, helped along by Edward's lips and their wet suction.

But before I could reach it, before I could finish the battle between my mind and my body, Edward stopped. "Not yet, baby," he whispered. "I want to see you. I want to feel you come when I'm inside of you," he said, repeating what he said that first time on the worktable of his kitchen.

I nearly sobbed: in frustration, from desire, with emotion. "Please . . . please . . . please," I begged, too far gone to care about how loud I was or even what I was asking for.

"Shhh, baby, shhh," he said as he silenced me with his mouth. "Shhh," he whispered as I felt the press of two of his lube slickened fingers. "Shhh," he breathed as he finally slid into me, slow and reverent.

His mouth stayed fused to mine as he moved against me, swallowing my cries. He breathed into me as he surged, and took my breath away when he withdrew. He stole my heart and gave me his with each murmur and caress and kiss.

He loved me with everything he had.

When I came it was in a tidal wave of pleasure and emotion so intense, it bordered on pain and, ironically, left me screaming soundlessly as my body clenched and spasmed and my back arched sharply.

"Oh god, so fucking hot," Edward whispered as he watched me fall apart. "Oh god, oh . . . oh, fuuu—" he stifled his shout by sinking his teeth into my shoulder, his hips jerking erratically against me and then pushing deep inside as he came.

He collapsed against me, the two of us panting and sticky with sweat and come. His hand fumbled on the nightstand and then he was releasing my hands from the cuffs. They fell bonelessly to my sides. Edward started rubbing them.

"You okay?" he asked.

I snorted. "You have a flair for understatement."

He chuckled, and then moved to the side, pulling me into his arms.

"I can't believe you did this," I said to him. "How long have you been planning it?"

"Honestly? I'd been fantasizing about fucking you in my old room for ages," he said with a blush, "and then I thought about what it would have been like to sneak you into my room when I was in high school, having to be quiet with my parents in the next room, and well . . . a while now."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. It never really came up. There was never a reason for us to stay here before, but then Rose and I were talking about how she made Emmett move out for a week before the wedding, and the idea just wouldn't leave me alone."

"Remind me to thank my sister."

We lay there for a little longer, before Edward finally got up and went to the bathroom for a washcloth to clean us up with. Then he got dressed and walked to the window.

"The window, Edward? You climbed in through the window?"

"How did you think I got in?"

"I dunno. You have a key don't you?"

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

I rolled my eyes.

He opened the window, and put one leg over the sill. "I love you, baby."

"I love you too, you lunatic. Now get out of here before your parents catch us."

He gave me that smile, the one that makes _my_ face light up, and then he was gone.

I flopped back down on the bed and shook my head. I was marrying the craziest man on earth.

I was one lucky son-of-a-bitch.

The next day dawned bright and clear. It was perfect for a wedding. Our wedding was being held at a gorgeous location that had been built in the 1920's as a women's social club. It was decorated in a stunning Italian Renaissance style, and when the rooms were decorated and lit up, it was a sight to behold. The garden and breezeway outside were similarly beautiful, and the ceremony would be held out there, while the cocktail hour and reception were held indoors.

But before I would be allowed to enjoy the moment I joined my life to Edward's, officially, I was going to be subjected to Rose. At eight in the morning she woke me up and ordered me to shower and meet her downstairs. By eight thirty I was in the kitchen with Rose, Emmett, Carlisle and Esme, trying to gulp down a cup of coffee and one of Edward's chocolate croissants before my sister dragged me out of the house.

Manicure, pedicure, eyebrow waxing (I was not amused), a proper old-fashioned shave, and my hair was trimmed and styled.

"Really, Rose, isn't this a bit ridiculous?"

"Dude, just accept it. Trust me. It's so much easier," Emmett said from the spa chair next to me.

"Yeah, well you're the one who married her. I had no choice in the matter. My parents just came home on my second birthday and said, 'hey look, we got you a pain in the ass.'"

Emmett's snort of laughter was cut short by Rosalie's glare, and I snickered and murmured, "So whipped."

Rose raised an eyebrow at me. "Says the man who allowed his fiancé to ravage him in the room next door to his parents last night."

I blushed to my roots. "What? How? Who?" I stumbled over each word.

"Well," she said. "Esme is a very forthcoming woman . . ."

A strangled noise erupted from my throat.

Rosalie doubled over with laughter. "Oh my god! You should see your face!" She clutched her stomach trying to compose herself.

Emmett turned and looked at me. "Dude, really?" He held out his fist for knuckle bumps.

I tapped his fist absently, completely mortified.

"Oh Jesus, Jasper. I'm just kidding. Edward told me what he was planning."

When my eyes widened further, she backpedaled, "Oh Christ, no, no, not _exactly_ what he was planning, just that he wanted to be with you in his old bedroom, all sneaky and high school-like. Why do you think I was suddenly too busy with the baby to have you stay with us?"

"Niiiice," Emmett drawled. "Your boy is kinky."

"Stop, both of you, just stop," I said, but I couldn't help smirking just a little.

Finally, the hour came. I walked down the breezeway and saw Edward walking toward me. He was beautiful, the golden light of the setting sun illuminating his auburn hair, setting it aflame. His eyes, always so full of love and passion were even more so, and I felt like he was consuming me with his gaze.

His body was perfectly encased in his tuxedo, and I grinned as I saw the one detail that Esme and Rosalie were going to have kittens over. Despite our coordinating tuxedos and the formal, black-tie nature of the event, Edward and I decided to wear matching Chucks. I looked back up at him and his grin matched mine.

We stood in front of the officiant, Edward's old prom date, Reverend Angela Webber. The ceremony was simple and quick, allowing the focus to be on the vows we wrote for each other. Edward's words were beautiful and filled with love, and I like to think he felt the same about mine. After Angela pronounced us husband and husband, we kissed to the cheering of our loved ones.

We went to a room upstairs, off one of the ballrooms to collect ourselves and let them set up so we could make our grand entrance as a married couple. As soon as the door closed, we both started crying, and then we started laughing at the fact that we were crying. It was just so . . . cathartic. We'd been relatively relaxed and excited about the entire day, but when push came to shove, it really was emotional.

The caterers brought us a small tray with champagne and appetizers, which we promptly dug into.

"So, how much time do we have left?" I asked Edward.

"Ummm, I think they're going to bring us in for the 'grand entrance' in about twenty minutes," he replied as he licked the crumbs off his fingers.

"Oh good," I said.

"What?" he looked up at me.

"I told you last night, I can't wait to fuck my husband."

"Here?"

"Oh yes, here."

"Jesus, Jas—"

I cut him off with a kiss, pulling him to his feet. Never breaking the kiss, I unbuttoned his pants, grateful that he'd already removed his jacket when we started eating. I nipped his lip and then dropped to my knees, pulling his pants and briefs down. I wasted no time, but took him into my mouth, hungry for the taste and feel of him. I loved hearing his groan and seeing his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he fought against grabbing my hair and making an obvious mess of it.

I sucked and licked at him for a few minutes, but I didn't have time to play. I stood up. "Turn around and grab the back of the chair, Edward."

He did as I asked, and I wasted no time grabbing the small pack of lube from my pocket. Within moments I'd pushed his shirt up and out of the way and was sliding two fingers into him, enjoying the way he moaned, whimpered, and pushed back against my hand.

"Want me to fuck you, baby?"

"Yes, oh god, please, yes."

"I love you, Edward. Husband," I whispered as I leaned over his back and eased into him. "Always."

"Love you, Jasper. Always."

I pulled out slow, but then slammed back in. We didn't have the time for leisurely and sweet. Later I would make love to him. Just then, I wanted to consummate our marriage, make Edward mine in every way.

I paused for a moment and leaned over him again. "Love you, baby, love you so much. Gonna fuck you so hard now," I told him as I pulled out and thrust back into him.

"Yessss," he hissed.

I grabbed his hips and began driving into him, hard and fast. At the rate I was going it wasn't going to take me long to come and I just hoped I could bring Edward along with me. I changed my angle a bit so that I could reach around him, but before I could he started whimpering, "Oh god, yeah, right there, oh god, oh god . . . gonna come, fuck, gonna come," and he shot his load all over the back of the chair, untouched.

That was all it took to send me right over. I pulled out and came all over Edward's ass. I put my forehead down on his back and caught my breath.

"Damn baby, if that's what married sex is like . . ." I couldn't even finish the thought, I was riding too much of a bliss high. "Wait here," I mumbled, before walking into the attached bathroom. I cleaned myself off quickly, then wet a towel and brought it out to clean Edward off, stopping to swipe at the mess on the chair as well.

Just as we were finishing putting ourselves to rights there was a knock at the door. Esme's voice on the other side said, "Edward? Jasper? They're ready for you."

"Thanks mom, we'll be right out," Edward called back, and I tried very hard to stifle a laugh as I pointed at his fly, where the tail of his shirt was sticking right out. "Not my fault," he said with a grin, "some nutter just molested me at my wedding."

I laughed out loud. "I love you Edward Cullen."

"I love you Jasper Hale Whitlock. Now let's go show these people how to dance."

The main ballroom looked stunning. The ornate archways were lit up, giving the room an old feel, and the giant floor to ceiling windows were open and flanked by glowing sconces. Flowers adorned the chandeliers, as well as the table, but it was all done with an understated grace that was all Esme.

The evening was a resounding success. The food was exceptional, the music kept people dancing until late, and the desserts and wedding cake were, needless to say, perfect. There were some photographers there from one of the wedding magazines. It wasn't everyday that one of the best wedding cake purveyors in the city got married.

By the time it was all over, we barely had enough energy to get undressed and crash into the bed at the hotel we got for the night. We made up for that in the morning. Then it was a whirlwind of getting to the airport, flying to Massachusetts, having our "legal" wedding, and then back on a plane for our honeymoon.

As soon as we took off, I tossed a pad of paper and a pen to Edward.

"What's this for?"

I leaned over and whispered. "It's for you to write down all of your other fantasies. I want to see how many more we can knock out on the honeymoon."

Edward's eyes darkened, naked lust making them look almost feral. He tore off a sheet and handed it to me. "Quid pro quo," he said.

I grinned. "I like the way you think."

"Speaking of which," he said quietly. "Did you notice how empty this cabin is?"

I nodded. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

Edward bit his lip and nodded, then pushed his pad of paper toward me.

_I want to join the Mile High Club._

"God I love you," I said.

"Love you too."

Then he proved it.

Best. Flight. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ope you all enjoyed that! Now here's the longer part of my note.
> 
> As ever, my love and gratitude to Chicklette for being a fuckawesome beta, but an even better friend.
> 
> The location of Jasper and Edward's wedding is The Ebell of Los Angeles. It's a stunning spot for a wedding, and you've actually seen it in umpteen movies. Here is the website, they have a photo gallery. www . ebellla . com
> 
> The idea of having Jasper and Edward wear Chucks came from my friend's wedding a few months ago. It was a formal affair, but the groom and every male in the wedding party was wearing Chucks. It was a wonderful and whimsical touch, and oh so very them. 
> 
> Also, while I'm not normally a fan of crying Edwards and Jasper, I can attest to the emotional catharsis of it at a wedding.


End file.
